


Kazakhstan’s National Hockey Hunk

by Iceprincessvictuuri (orphan_account)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hockey, Bottom Yuri Plisetsky, Drama & Romance, Eventual Smut, Fluff, M/M, Shy Yuri Plisetsky, Top Otabek Altin, Waterboy Yuri, i mean obviously, thats not a tag? wow
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-05-27 20:20:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15032453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Iceprincessvictuuri
Summary: Otabek was on Kazzinc-Torpedo, a big hockey team in Kazakhstan, and Yuri was just the waterboy.





	1. Not Enough

Yuri _never_ thought of becoming some sweaty hockey teams’ waterboy in his _life_. He was well put together, pretty, small, and ice skated. And then somehow Mila convinced him that being the waterboy was a fun activity because you got to see big, hot, sweaty boys.

He wasn’t entirely against that. 

So, when Yuri was first introduced to the men of the Kazzinc-Torpedo’s, he was shocked. All the men looked beautiful: standing tall, rugged, and sweaty. They panted slightly and smiled slyly at the small, blond, Russian who blushed and shaked everyone’s hand, murmuring a soft, “Hello, I’m Yuri Plisetsky.”

”You’re that ice skater, right? You skate all... pretty...? Right? Can you skate for us?” 

Yuri, shocked, nodded and, with his skates already on, moved to the middle of the okay-sized rink and watched the hockey team move off of it.

There was no music but the small blond was still able to successfully skate one of his programs from when he competed full time without any rest. He doesn’t do that anymore. When he lived with Victor and Yuuri back in St. Petersburg, Russia, they took him out of the competitions when Mila recommended the waterboy positioning.

Again, he wasn’t entirely against it.

They loved his skating saying hat he should do it professionally, although he has, and that he shouldn’t be stuck to their team.

They all got along well except for one of the quieter players, Otabek Altin, who barely spoke other then the occasional grunts and groans of pain. But that was it. He’d always stay in the corner when Yuri’d go out to give them their big water bottles.

He was a fantastic player: strong, quick, and competitive... and hot. He was a hunk, the hunk-iest player on that team. He had muscles for days and abs to cut Yuris (not wanted) erection with. Good think he wore large sweater shorts that covered them. 

Out of the seven players, Otabek was Yuris favorite.

* * *

The game was coming to an end, the Kazzinc-Torpedos going against the Toronto Maple Leafs which had JJ Leroy: the hated, the annoying, and the obnoxious. 

He was loud, ruthless, and didn't take his own hockey team seriously. Maybe... It was a practical joke. It had to be! JJ couldn't be serious.

”I'm as serious as ever, kitten, ” He lifted Yuris chin with his calloused fingers and leaned in close. ”You should know that more than anyone, hm?” 

The blond scowled and pushed him away, ”You're disgusting and you're _WIFE_ is out there supporting you like a good person and unlike you you're hitting on a waterboy who doesn't like you romantically, as a friend, or as an acquaintance!” Yuri stamped off on his small ice skates, flipping Leroy off as he left to the side where his own team sat, talking, laughing, and waiting for the game to start.

Yuri sat next to Otabek with the cold water bottles, that sat in a box with the team name on it, in his lap. 

”Is JJ bothering you again? U can talk to him, you know” Yuri blushed and ducked his head a little, shaking it. His shoulder length blonde hair shook with his movements. 

”I-I’m okay, don't worry too much about it. I can deal with it all on my own”

Otabek only hummed sweetly and straightened his back, standing up with his other team members and going out on the ice where their coach stood on their side. 

And Yuri sat there, watching the game and not doing _anything_ , until the bell rung and he did his job of handing everyone their water bottles.

Every single day.

 


	2. Young and sweet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry I’m barely updating! I’m moving!

Kazakhstan won, obviously, against Canada that day. Really, they didn’t stand a chance with someone like Leroy on their team. He shouldn’t have been able to have the privilege to get on a team.

Let alone the Toronto Maple Leafs... they were great.

Otabek was good friends with JJ, somehow, and though he wouldn’t laugh Leroy would try and make him: with stupid jokes or gestures or memes. It never worked though. Otabek would laugh when I’d fall, tripping over my skates and rushing, on my knees, to catch the water bottles. 

He’d think it was the the funniest thing and hide his big smile behind his large hand. Yuri wasn’t sure what he found so funny when he had to hobble to the locker rooms gasping in pain on his “girl skates” as the team called them.

”Ay! Plisetsky! You can’t leave without your cheque!” Otabek ran over to the blonde with the slip of paper in between his fingers. Yuri stopped and bit his lip, he muscular man coming closer and closer and 

Oh he smelled good.

His strong cologne invaded Yuris clean air and he suddenly wanted to waft it closer to him, or hold Otabek closer to him, or hug him. 

Yuri nodded and took the piece of paper slowly, looking at the name of their coach that was written in black ink. 

“I wanted to give t to you myself... ah, you know because I wanted to— to tell you that I was, ah, um, I felt bad when you fell” 

The blond snickered and waved it off, “It’s fine, Otabek, don’t worry too much about it. I don’t care hat you laughed”

The hockey players face went up in flames and he coughed behind and hand, his eyes went wide and flickered down to the hard wood of the ice rink. 

“I’m sorry!”

”It’s fine, Otabek—“

”Please! Call me Beka! It’s the least I can do!”

Now it was Yuris turn to blush. He smiled and bit his lip, cheeks tinting of a dusty rose that reached his necks and ears.

”I— okay, _only_ if you call me Yura”

Otabek thought for a moment, “Yura,” he said softly, trying it out before nodding. “That’ll work, _Yura_ , thank you.”

Yuri smiled and waved behind him as he carried his duffel bag behind him into the anticipation of the weekend. To put it shortly, he was excited, it’s his only breaks he gets.

“Good evening, Beka”

”Goobye, Yura”

* * *

The blond got home safely, in the comfort and tranquility of his own place where the lights were dim and he can walk around in just a big t-shirt, underwear, and socks and no one can judge him.

Though... he _did_ miss Otabek and he wouldn’t mind if he saw himself looking like that. 

Yuri wouldn’t mind at all.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s really short ugh sorrryyy


	3. The great fall of ‘18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Hockey teams’ names that I am using are REAL!! I do NOT in any way, shape, or form, own them.
> 
> I respect their names and the way they play, so the people I use on them and the adjectives I use to describe them are not always true. 
> 
> You may now read :)

Ice water. Gatorade bottles. Amur Khabarovsks.

With the Toronto Maple Leafs gone, the Amur Khabarovsks were in our rink, snarling their shiny, White Russian teeth and rocking their bodies as if they were ready to pounce. 

People filled the seats eagerly, holding up signs, faces covered in their colors, popcorn and hotdogs and French fries and drinks in their cheering hands.

It was a tie so far.

Eveyone took a break and Yuri went out on his skates and floated around with an unreadable expression, handing out the bottles of water that were sweating against his shirt where he sat, waiting.

”Yura!”

He knew that voice from _anywhere_. 

The blond turned around swiftly and with eyes filled of hatred, growled at Victor who waved with a large, pearly smile. His gray hair sat sweaty and wet on top of his head. He skated over.

“Don’t talk to me you Russian asshole”

Victor raised an eyebrow and chuckled, “Have you forgotten you _too_ are Russian? О нет, Yura, you’re so silly”

Yuri growled and slammed his one free hand into the older mans’ chest. Victor stumbled back a little, hurt resonating across his face.

“Did I do something wron—“

” _Don’t_ touch him.”

Otabeks hand came around Yuris shoulders and pulled him into himself, his  neatly trimmed brows pulled together in frustration. Yuri stumbled a bit, as Victor did, and looked up at the much taller man who only looked forward.

”What? I didn’t touch him, you torpedo!”

Otabek, hummed and looked down at the blond who both trembled at the gaze and was amazed at it. 

“Did he hurt you Yura?”

Yuri gulped.

”I DIDN’T FUCKING TOUCH HIM!”

He shook his head ignoring the older man in front of them. 

“Good.”

And Otabek dragged the blond to the stands where the rest of the team sat, engaged in their own conversations to even care that the two were enveloped in each other.

Yuri sat next to the taller, much scarier man with a flush on his face.

”You know you didn’t have to do that...”

Otabek grunted and his calloused, bleeding fingers rested under Yuris chin where he lifted his eyes. His dark brown eyes met Yuris bright greens ones.

”I know, but I did”

”Oh... ah, thank you.”

And then the game began again, Yuri cheered for his team and watched as they scored point after point against the Russian team.

Otabek played dirty, body checking as many people, on the opposing team, as he could. Until it all went to shit and Victor fucking Nikiforov body checked the Torpedo so hard Otabek fell on the ice with his shoulder. The brunette writhed in pain on the ice, groaning but waiting patiently for the paramedics to come and check him. He tried to right himself but he only fell again with a loud cry.

Yuri stared with butterflies in his throat, the earnest to vomit rising up and up until the paramedics came out, taking off Otabeks helmet and checking his head. They checked for a concussion (or at least the start of one) and then lifted him  onto a stretcher.

Oh Victor was so fucking dead, Yuri was fuming. He hurt the Torpedos’ best player.

The blond ran off of bleachers and to the locker rooms where the paramedics were quickly checking on him.

 _Nikiforov was going to get_ _his ass kicked_ , Yuri thought bitterly as he watched the paramedics pop his shoulder back into place. The cry and look of pain on Otabeks face made Yuri flinch from his place in the corner. _And it’s gonna be from me_.

* * *

Otabek had a fractured shoulder and went home early, being excused from the game as a result of his injury.

“Victor Nikiforov! I’m gonna cut off your husbands dick and feed it to Makkachin!”

Yuri stomped his way over to the Russian team, watching the way they looked at his with their stormy, dark eyes. They spoke limited English so they would t know what he was entirely talking about. Victor looked at him and his face instantly fell.

The blond stood in front of his with the blades of his skates held up close against Victors throat, his bright green eyes darkened. He has a purpose to do this and he wasn’t going to back down.

”You little hitch, you hurt Otabek!”

”I body checked him! He did the same to my team mates, so why couldn’t I do the same?!”

Yuri pushed the skate closer to Victors throat, standing on his tiptoes to look even remotely threatening. It wasn’t that easy at 5’4”.

”He was gentle! He didn’t hurt any of them!”

Victor shit his mouth and glared at Yuri, pushing him away and turning around to go with his team, that won because of him hurting Otabek.

”I hope you rot in hell, fucker. You don’t deserve the life you have!”

And Yuri stormed off with his skates in his hands and duffel bag thrown around his shoulder.

 

 


	4. Media storm

_‘You don’t deserve the life you have!’  Footage of Kazzinc-Torpedo waterboy, ex-skater, Yuri Plisetsky, screaming to former friend and hockey player for the Amur Khabarovsks, Victor Nikiforov, our of spite for body checking and hospitalizing another Kazzinc-Torpedo member, Otabek Altin. Is Yuri Plisetsky still bitter over his brutal ending to ice skating?_

_Well, we spoke with Lilia Baranovskaya, his old coach, who said that Yuri is “Stubborn and spiteful but wouldn’t just get angry at a silly situation such as something like that.” She doesn’t think it is about his getting denied to ever skate again—_

Yuri turned off the tv, breathing heavily and staring ahead with a beating heart and sweaty palms.

Everyone loved to dig up his past. They loved to dig up what he was once known for, what he used to rule at alongside of Victor and Yuuri. 

He didn’t want to get denied to another thing he loved with his heart. He did skating, and he loved it but after he fucked up badly, said something wrong, did something bad, he was denied access to competition ever again. 

It broke him entirely, his heart physically hurt and he cursed Lilia and Yakov for life. Ever since then, he never had spoken to them, too afraid, too ashamed, too.. stubborn.

Yuri broke out in tears, loud, embarrassing sobs wracking and shaking his body until his face and neck were red hot and his hands nervously gripped at his hair.

His life was over again, he could feel it. It was starting again. Another chapter of building ones self up after destruction. That is what Yuris life has come to be and that is what he’ll forever be known as: Destruction. 

 

The blonds phone rang: once, twice, three, four, five times until he picked up with a snakey, “Hello?”

”Yuri,” Victor breathed out. “Yuri please tell me you are okay, please tell me you didn’t turn on the TV.”

Yuri let out another loud cry into his own arm. He got angry and didn’t stop himself from saying something and now, he’s done it again.

”Yuri! Please stop crying! Please listen to me! It’s gonna be okay, I-I promise! I know it’s my fault that you got angry and said that stuff again, I’m sorry!” Victor was loud, yelling into the phone and Yuri wailed pathetically.

”I fused it Yuri! As soon as it was broadcasted and the team heard it we called the news station and told them that they had the news wrong and they needed to fix it! I-It’s already done with! Yuri please I don’t let something happen to you again! Please turn on your tv...” his voice went hush towards the end and Yuri did, turning on the tv and watching as the same news caster lady stood with flushed cheeks in front of the camera. 

Her eyes darted to the back of the camera. 

_It seems we have made a mistake and I formerly apologize to Yuri Plisetsky who did not say what he said in vain. We apologize for saying what you said and bringing up the past, that is on us._

_We are terribly worry. Back to you, Mikah_.

Yuri sniffles and wiped his running nose and damp eyes with his elongated sweater sleeves

”B-But why? I’m so mean to you I deserve to be h-humil-humilatated.”

Victor sighed, “No you don’t Yuri. Listen.. you’re still a child, Yura, and after your... skating incident.. I didn’t want to see you wink that low again. You were 16 then, you were popular and Russia held you on a pedestal next to me,” he took a deep breath in. “You’re too young. Two years might’ve passed but that doesn’t mean you’re over what happened. I know for sure you aren’t and I know what you said you didn’t mean just.. never threaten to cut off Yuuris dick again please.”

The blond laughed mumbling out a quick “I promise”.

Victor sighed again. “I have— I want— I know Otabek is... important to you, whether I like it or not, and I have his number so if you want it then–“

Yuri Let our a loud yell, his sad mood gone now.

”PLEASE?!”

They exchanged the numbers between each other and ended the call with a short goodbye and good wishes.

Maybe today wasn’t so bad after all.

* * *

_Yuri: Hi! It’s Yuri!_

Too excited

_Yuri: Hey._

Too ominous

The blond deleted the messages quickly, cheeks flared red with embarrassment. He typed or another one.

_Yuri: Hi, it’s Yuri. Victor gave me your number..._

He hesitantly sent that message and barely a minute later got an answer back.

_Otabek: Hey. how’re you? I saw the news..._

_Yuri: I’m fine. What about you? You’re the one with a fractured shoulder blade_

_Otabek: Oh, I’m fine._

_Yuri: That’s good_

and then it was static for a while, neither Otabek or Yuri talking.

_Otabek: Hey, Thanks for threatening your friend for me. You didn’t have to do that_

_Yuri: I know but I did_

_Otabek: Cheeky :)_

 


	5. Die down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mpre info about Yuri.

Yuri stayed away from the TV and media outlets for a while. Paparazzi were extra needy to suck information out of him like he was the last source of water in a desert. 

It was annoying but it is what happens when you become a famous male figure skater, purposely injure someone for scoring higher then you in a competition, have news stations come out with allegations and new claims against you, going to court, being to banned from something you actually enjoyed, having to find something else.

It was a lot and Yuri wished everyday that he was just in a coma and woke up to his ex-skate friends around him, but everyday he woke up in his lonely bed in his lonely Kazakh apartment and he turned on thenlonely lights to restart another lonely day.

It was a vicious cycle.

But sometimes... when Yuri got at the rink early...

He would put his skates on and practice old routines. His heart would beat so furiously in his chest he would forget that the Torpedos were arriving and would stop, erupting in tears because _he missed this so badly_. He missed feeling the adrenaline of skating and the pride when waving to the roaring crowds as they threw cat head bands and plushies at him.

He missed it so fucking much.

Yuri sometimes wondered if it was even worth it...

 

at least he had Otabek; nice, handsome, funny, dorky, Otabek who messaged him with stupid cat pictures that always elicited a giggle of some sort out of the blond. He cared, genuinely and whole heartedly cared about how Yuri was mentally and physically. 

Otabek made it seem like being some sweaty mens’ twink water slave was all worth it.

maybe.

not the slave part though.

* * *

 

Yuri woke up on Monday feeling... blah.

The weather in Kazakhstan was shitty and rainy. The skies were gray and the trip to the rink was even shittier; Yuri didn’t like sitting next to fat, old men who had crumbs in their beard and looked over the blonde shoulder to look at his phone. So, when the bus stopped near the rink, you bet that Yuri bolted, paying and thanking the driver.

When he got off of the bus and started walking towards the rink, with no umbrella, it was like the weather had gotten even more shittier. 

Yuri arrived to his job drenched and definitely late.

Coach was not happy. Neither were the Torpedo members.

He felt the shame as he quickly ducked behind his sweater and ran to the locker rooms.

”You’re late,” Yuri let out a sound and looked up from here he had set his duffel bag down. Otabek looked him up and down, helmet covering most of his face. “And wet.”

Yuri nodded and quickly sat down, putting on his skates.

”I woke up a little bit later then usual, the bus came late because of the weather, and I didn’t want to run here.”

The hockey player nodded and hummed, leaning against the red lockers to watch the blond tie up his laces. 

_Loop_

_loop_

_pull,_

_loop_

_loop_

_pull_ ,

and again and again until it came to the perfect bunny knot.

”Sounds like you need a car,” 

Yuri gaped at Otabek and stood up, putting his duffel bag in one of the empty, larger lockers.

”To hell I am!”

”or a ride.”

The blond turned swiftly and glares at the man who paid no attention to him and kept on walking.

”What are you playing at, Altin?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, “You know, I do have a motorcycle and an extra helmet. You could keep the extra helmet in your duffel bag and when I pick you up you’ll be ready.”

I shook my head and opened the door to the locker room, holding it open for Otabek.

”I am not getting on that _hell machine_!”

”It’s fast.”

”Like I care?!”

”You won’t be late anymore.”

”And?!”

Otabek sighed and took off his skate guards, looking back at Yuri like he was getting prepared to scold him. Yuri waited, it never came.

”You’re going to ride with me on my motorcycle and I don’t care if you like it or not. You won’t die, it is completely safe, you will be fine. I am going to pick you up tomorrow morning, be up by 7am.”

Otabek skated away towards his team mates and Yuri watched after him.

He would totally yell at him for telling him what to do but Otabek was a hunk.


End file.
